i have a funny relationship with airports. when i was little, i hated them. hated. i can't entirely explain why, but i thought of them as akin to hospitals. not in the sense that people disappear whenever they go there, but that it was a place with hard floors, it echoed a lot, it was very cold, very unfriendly. it could have had something to do with spending a lot of time there once when i was 5. i don't really know what happened, just that there was drama, and that my mom believes that the person who helped us out was an angel. as i remember it, he wore a leather jacket. but i could have fabricated that part of it.
when i got older, i was generally pretty depressed by the airport because usually it meant someone else was going somewhere, not me. the worst moment was when i drove zee germans down to the Boeing airport in washington so that they could fly back to germany in a near-empty brand new plane that Boeing was sending off to Lufthansa...and i got to drive back to coquitlam. i was pretty upset. but a few months later i went to praha, and that was arguably a pretty good experience.
at any rate. now, i get sad because i'm not going anywhere, but today, i was going to drop my mom off and realised that i was going back in just a few more days because i get to go somewhere! this was exciting.
i was supposed to drive to richmond to deliver my dad's van to his workplace, meet up with mom (who's headed to australia), and the two of us drive to the airport from there so that i can return her car. it made sense, but it didn't take into account that mom is generally a last-minute kind of person. but she wanted to be there at 5 because her flight was at 8, and she's going through the states and was a little worried about that.
so when i left to drive to RB, i got a call from david passing on a message that mom was too late to go to RB, that i should meet her at the airport. didn't specify where or anything, and she was gone. so i went to the airport. and stood by the van to make sure she wouldn't miss me. and waited and the drop-off point. and got cold. and waited. and danced around to keep warm. and waited. and called david to bitch. and waited. and got a pointless phonecall from peter who also sounded preoccupied. and waited.
45 minutes later she finally called from inside, already parked and loaded up ready to check in. and i was angry and bitter and cold and with a toothache, so i yelled at her some because i was pretty pissed off. and it was after 6 at that point, so she had to check in then. her plan was for me to drive to RB, she'd give me $20 for a cab ride back, and then i could pick up the car and go home. and i was angry and didn't really give her a hug when she hugged me, and didn't smile or anything, but i was cold and bitter.
in the time it took to drive to RB's and cab it back, i had time to cool down and feel bad about being angry, so i decided to get a message sent to her departure gate apologising and telling her i loved her and hoped her plane didn't crash. it took some really upset-looking faces to get the woman at the check-in to actually get the message sent, but it went. so i walked out, felt a little better, hoped that my mom had a good trip, went to pay for the parking (which gives you 15 mins to get out of the parkade) and went to find the car "beside the ramp, 3 rows over".
the car wasn't on the first floor of the parkade. it wasn't on the second floor, or the third. it wasn't on the level with the rental cars. i know. i walked around there for 40 minutes trying to find the car, combing each floor 3 times or more, walking up and down aisles pushing the lock/unlock buttons on the keychain in hopes of hearing the car beep or seeing it flash.
i was cold. i was bitter again. i was pissed off again. i was still hungry and still had a dull pain in my jaw. i called david to bitch some more. he told me maybe it was me bringing it upon myself. and just as i was about to hang up on him, my mom called.
she'd received my note. i'd had enough time to get angry again, so i told her that i was sorry for being angry, but the fact was that i was really, really angry at that point. she told me that the car wasn't in the parkade, it was in the lot beyond it. and that she'd never have told me it was near the ramp, it's near the covered aisle. so we argued about that for a minute, but finally i found the right aisle, and found the car while she was still on the phone.
mom's car's a VW jetta. it's a nice car. and to deter breakins, VW's gone and done the keyless entry thing, so you just hit the button on the keychain and the doors unlock. eureka! unfortunately, because i'd been hitting that button constantly while searching for the car, the battery in the keychain was dead.
this is round about the same time that my phone battery was about to die, and it started announcing that to me. fortunately VW still has a keylock on the trunk. so i had to climb in that way. and i'd spent so long searching for the car that i had to pay another $2.25 on the way out of the parking lot.
and then i came home and diego had left his shoes in front of my room. again. i don't know why he does that, but he does every now and then. usually i don't really mind. today i did, though.
so i called the foundation and ordered too much food for pickup. had to climb into the car through the trunk when it came time to go get it, but at least it was food. and good food. and what i actually wanted. rather than finding something makeshift out of the junk i've got sitting around.
i admit, it's a funny story in retrospect. but if i had the ability to level cities with my mind, richmond, vancouver, even out to calgary would have all been gone. forever. i did write "i love you" on the note, and there was a brief "hope the flight's good, have fun in australia, love you/you too" before the phone died. so i'm not an all-bad daughter, right?